Vernon's Redemption
by Artemis Goldborough
Summary: What if Vernon Dursley dies at the hands of a Death Eater? In the afterlife he meets his own grandson. Vernon is given a choice to change the past, to live a different life, to raise Harry and Dudley differently. Will he take this chance?
1. Chapter 1

Vernon Dursley had heard the old saying that your life flashes before your eyes when you die. He always thought it rubbish. He was a stout ordinary man with graying black hair. Ordinary was all he ever wanted to be. So why was he at this wizarding house, this safe house? Why was he surrounded by freaks?

The parlor was filled old fashioned future, the kind that would have poplar a century ago when Queen Victoria was alive. Vernon could almost have believed the room was normal. Almost was the word. The portraits moved. They spoke. It wasn't natural. It wasn't right. He had been here a few weeks but he still couldn't get used to this. Vernon sat on a couch with his wife. Petunia Dursley was a slender blond in her early forties. She was beautiful to him more so than ever. She was something normal, something good in the middle all this chaos. He looked on the floor. His large muscular son was sitting with a text book in his lap. Dudley could not attend Smeltings this year.

It was those freaks' faults. Vernon's good for nothing sister-in-law had the bad sense to marry at an absurdly young age. Vernon's wife had done the same but that was different. Vernon had been much older than Petunia. As a result he could take care of her. That James Potter was the same age as Lily. He acted more twelve than nineteen. That fellow Lily had married didn't even hold a proper job. He wasn't established in his field. He couldn't bring home a decent salary. What kind of job was auror anyway? It had sounded like magical nonsense. Vernon now knew it to be some sort of magical cross between being a cop and being an agent of MI5. What had that man been thinking? James put himself and Lily in danger. They gotten themselves blown up.

It was Vernon and Petunia who had been left with the aftermath, a child to raise, an unwanted child. The child name was Harry Potter. Vernon did not want to know anything about the freaks but living for three weeks with some of meant he couldn't help picking some things up. Half of the wizards hailed Harry Potter as some sort of hero. Vernon wasn't sure why.

Vernon heard something strange. His wife's eyes went wide. The front window broke. The glass shattered everywhere. Vernon jumped in front of Petunia to protect her.

A man in long black robes walked into the room through the tall floor length window. This man had a creepy white mask. He was holding that stick, that wand in manner that was like a weapon. Vernon could think of only one thing he might do. He lunged at the man. Vernon didn't even get halfway across the room.

What was the freak with the mask was saying? Abracadabra? No, it was something else, something similar sounding. A green light flashed in front of his eyes. Vernon saw darkness, a great empty void. Was this death?

Everything was black. A light appeared without warning. Vernon found that he was looking at the house he grew up in as a child. He saw himself at three years old then four and then five. The years flew by in front of his eyes in a quick and sweeping blur. He saw his older sister Marge when she was so young not yet ten. How had they ever been that young? It was so long ago. More than forty years had passed yet here he was watching bits and pieces of his own life, the way it was, like he was an outsider. That old saying about one's passing before one's eyes, maybe it wasn't rubbish. Somehow though Vernon didn't think it was supposed to be like this.

Vernon saw the day when he was six that his mother died. He saw his father who had been grey haired and old when Vernon was small. Howard Dursley, Vernon's father had been almost two decades older than Vernon's mother. Howard had retried from the army years before Vernon had even been born. Howard Dursley had been a hard man but Vernon could now see as adult what the younger Vernon had not. The death of his wife had broken something in Howard. Vernon saw the day his father told a seven year old Vernon there was no such thing as magic. The young Vernon had cried upon finding out there was no Father Christmas. He received no more toys that Christmas or any year. From then on presents were few and all were practical in nature. Howard Dursley taught Marge and Vernon to be strong. That you had to be tough to survive.

Vernon snorted at the thought of there being no magic. He only wished that was so. The wizards, the freaks, they were all monsters. They were the ultimate nonconformists. They were the kind who refused to obey any kind of rules. They were insane.

"Are they?" a voice said.

Vernon tried to spin around. He couldn't see or feel his body. He could not move. "Who are you?" Vernon demanded, "What foolishness is this?" When there was no response, Vernon yelled out, "Answer me!"

Vernon's childhood continued to play before his eyes. He saw himself grow up. He saw himself at eleven going off to Smeltings for the first time. He wore the bowler hat and the uniform. It was the exact same style that his son would wear many years later. That school did not change much if ever. Vernon saw himself carrying a cane in the halls of the school. He twirled that thing like it was a dangoers weapon. Oh what fun times he had!

Vernon watched as his younger self grew. He saw himself back home with his father over the holidays. Christmas as teenager was as unpleasant as it had been as a younger child. When Vernon was fifteen though it was different. That Christmas Day he went to a movie with Irene Rowe. She was his first love. The Christmas Day when he was fifteen he had his first kiss.

The years sped on faster. He watched as he graduated from Smeltings, as he went to college, then the day he graduated with a college degree in businesses. Vernon hadn't been stupid enough to think he could start a business of his own. On occasion he had dreamed of starting a company but that was too risky. He did not live in unbelievable dreams. He made himself change. He made plans that were attainable by hard work and effort. In truth an ordinary life was what he wanted most. He wanted safety. He wanted rules. He was a realist. He was the man his father raised him to be.

"But do you have to be that man?" the mysterious voice said. It was male. It was childlike and inquisitive. This voice, this person, he seemed to mocking Vernon.

"Show yourself!" Vernon Dursley bellowed.

The flashing images of Vernon's life faded away into gray fog. The blackness and the smoke colored fog surrounded Vernon. He could see his arms and legs again. He could feel them.

A boy was suddenly standing a few feet away from Vernon. He was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. This boy looked no older than seventeen about the same age as Vernon's son and that horrible nephew of his.

"Horrible!" the boy shouted. His face went red with anger.

The boy was skinny. He had blond hair and green eyes. There was something familiar about him. Vernon felt as if he should recognize him somehow. Vernon didn't know why but he thought of Petunia.

The boy's features softened. He smiled a sad smile. "I should think you might find me very familiar. I've been told I look a lot like her. I was told all my life that I have my green eyes due to recessive genes from Great Grandma Rose. Her daughter my great aunt Lily had the same eyes."

"Who are you boy?" Vernon asked, "Are you reading my mind? You're one of them aren't you!"

"If you mean a wizard," the boy said, "Yes, I was. In life my name was Darren Dursley. I was born to loving parents Dudley and Anita Dursley in the year 2010."

Vernon backed away out of fright. He fought down the fear turning it into anger. "What do you mean in life? What's this about 2010? It's only 1997. You take me for some sort of fool boy? You're trying to drive mad with your freakish magic ways! I'm not going to fall for that!"

"Is that your only response Grandfather?" the boy said, "You get scared then you get angry. You act out of fear and ignorance. You don't even try to understand. Do know what you did to Harry James Potter?"

"That boy, that freak!" Vernon yelled with furry.

The boy who called himself Darren Dursley shook his head. "You act with prejudice. You hide fear with anger. The pureblood wizards are no different in that regard. They hold to their traditions. They fear that which outside their idea of normal."

Vernon spat at the ground. "I am nothing like those freaks!"

"Did you know Grandfather," Darren said, "that the wizards have a minister of magic?" "Do not call me that!" Vernon snapped, "I am not your grandfather. It is not possible."

"Oh but it is. Many things are possible." Darren tilted his head to the side. He gave Vernon a cool appraising look. "You died in 1997. I died in 2045. Time has no meaning here."

Vernon stared in disbelief. He did some quick mental math. "I'm not saying I believe you. I know it can't be. You'd be over thirty years old. You can't be anymore than seventeen."

"Eighteen," the boy said, "this is how I looked before…" The boy's face blurred like a picture going out of focus. "… I was burned." The boy's face became more and more focused. His body changed becoming older and heaver. Darren's clothes changed into a dark dress, what the freaks liked to call robes. Vernon was about to make a scathing remark until he saw Darren's face. The boy, no Vernon corrected himself, this was a man. His image was so shocking to behold. His face was hideous.

Darren continued speaking, "A group made up of angry muggles and hate filled squibs did this to me. The squibs knew about potions. They knew how to make certain that it would be permanent."

Vernon tried not to look at the man's face. It was positively revolting. It made Vernon want to throw up. He searched his mind for something to say. He spoke the first question that popped up. "What on Earth is a squib?"

The man let out a bitter laugh. "Squibs are non-magical people born to wizarding folk."

"You mean normal people are born to freaks?" Vernon asked.

"To them it's the other way around," Darren said, "The squibs are treated as the freaks because they don't magic. It's like being blind deaf. They are seen as useless. They are the lowest of the lowest of the low in the wizarding world. Some are drived of food. Some are beaten. There are those are merely thrown out of the only homes they have ever know. To be a squib child is a horrible fate. The worst part is some don't know it until they don't receive their invitation to a wizarding school in the weeks leading up to their eleventh birthday. Imagine being the center of attention, the adored heir of a family one day. The next day the child is an outcast, the family pariah." "That's barbaric!" Vernon yelled.

Darren's features blurred again. In seconds his face became that of a teenage boy again. His clothes become the normal jeans and t-shirt. His was once more skinny. He raised his brows in an accusing way that made Vernon think uncomfortably of Petunia. Darren's voice was quiet and at the same time filled with anger. "Is what you did to Harry any better?" he asked.

Vernon shook his head. "I never beat him. I never laid a hand on him. He didn't starve. He didn't suffer malnutrion."

"Did you love him?" Darren asked.

Vernon glared. "That freak! Never! He's just like his good for nothing parents! He'll never amount anything."

"How dare you say that!" Darren shouted, "James Potter was the last of a ancient and noble wizarding family. The Potter fortune is one of the greatest fortunes in both wizarding and muggle England!"

Vernon felt his jaw drop. His brows went high. He felt ready to faint of shock.

"It's a good thing you can't do that here," Darren said, "I do believe you are in for more shocks. Harry Potter is a nexus point. His name, his deeds, his actions are important in many realities."

Vernon's voice was shaky. "R-realities?"

Darren rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me. You don't even know basic muggle science. You are one of the most abnormal people I have ever met.

"Am not," Vernon said weakly.

"You are too. You try to so hard to be normal that you forget that normal is a subjective word. That's if you even knew it in the first." Darren shrugged. "I'm not going to argue with you about that. To get back on topic, alternate realities are alternate chains of events. Every choice you make even the smalls can change the direction that your life takes. All those life changing events actually happen in other realities. Any life you can imagine Grandpa there is Vernon Dursley like that somewhere in the continuum.

Darren grinned. "This is where it gets a little fun Grandpa. There are rich Vernons and poor Vernons. There are famous Vernons and there are unknown Vernons. A nexus point person is different. It is someone who has the power to make great changes in any reality he or she exists in. There are almost no Harry James Potters who are absolute nobodies. Even his death as an infant will deeply impact a world."

Vernon was sure his skepticism was showing in his face. "You trying to tell me that boy is important?"

Darren nodded enthusiastically. "Yes. The dark lord, he-who-must-not-be-named, Lord Voldermort, and Tom Marvolo Riddle are all names for his greatest foe. Voldemort was the one who gave Harry his scar. If Harry is killed by Voldermort then the world will plunge into a dark age which affect both wizards and muggles alike. I am from such a timeline."

"If I'm dead what happened to Petunia and Dudley?" Vernon asked

"The aurors at the safe house came at the nick of time," Darren said, "My timeline is a path that comes directly from yours. Until now I have not met you Grandpa."

Vernon shouted, "I am not your grandpa! For the last time I am not your grandfather. I am not dead. I can't be!" Even though Vernon said this he no longer truly believed it. Without understanding how, he knew he was dead. This boy in front of did look a lot like Petunia. He could see traces of his own son's face in this boy as well. Was this his grandson?

Darren's eyes became unfocused. His voice took on a strange quality as if he was quoting something. "The one with the power to vanquish the dark one approaches…born as the seventh month dies… and the dark lord will mark him his equal but he will have power the dark lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…the one with the power to vanquish the dark will be born as the seventh month dies…"

Darren closed his eyes for a moment then opened them. His voice was normal. "That was Trelawnly's greatest prophesy. It was spoken sometime before Harry's birth. "

"What does this have to do with me?" Vernon asked.

Darren sighed. "I can't tell you that yet. I wasn't supposed to interupt your trip down memory lane." Darren suddenly disappeared from sight. The fog and the blackness vanshied. Vernnon was once more facing images from his past.

"This," Darren's voice said, "is imporrent. I must show you this before you can chose."

"Chose what?" Vernon was getting impatient.

"You will see," Daren said.

Vernon watched his past starting with his first job when he got out of college. The images went fast. They showed that first company Vernon worked for when he was twenty-two. Then the second which he started working for when he was twenty-seven. Finally they showed the third company. Though his job would change many times it was this company he would work for most of the rest of his life. This was Grunning Drills. He was a junior executive working for them at a desk job in London when he first met Petunia Evans. She was a young woman not yet twenty. He was just past thirty. It was not love at first sight. Vernon was too practical for such things. But it was an attraction. He was fascinated by Petunia. It was the way she moved, the way she walked. She was not a conventional beauty but she was beautiful to him. She listened to his words to what he said more than anyone else did. He saw the day he proposed to her in his mother's house. He got down on one his knee. It was probably the romantic gesture he ever did. He could remember being in that position with his heart beating so fast. When she said yes, it was the first time since he was a small child that he wanted to jump for joy. He restrained himself but it took effort.

Vernon saw that rainy day in his car that Petunia confessed to him that her sister was a witch. He thought she meant that Lily was involved some sort of crazy cult. Petunia was so scared that he would hate her. He reassured her that he never could. He witnessed that disastrous double date with Lily Evans and James Potter. When he tried to show off his fine car James bragged about a flying broomstick. Vernon had never heard such ridiculous things in all his life. When they sat at the table in the resultant James stared at menu like he didn't know what the foods were. James then had the nerve to about having a bank vault filled with gold coins. The older Vernon watched as his younger self went extremely red in the face. It was obvious to him back then that James had to be living on welfare. When James denied this, Vernon stormed out of the restaurant in a fury with Petunia at his side. Seeing this from outside his past self Vernon saw something he had not when he lived the event. He saw Petunia's sister burst into tears as Petunia left with him. The older Vernon didn't know why but he was starting to think that James might have been telling the truth about the gold. Some the other things he now knew were true. The broomsticks for example. One of the aurors in the safe house would not shut up about a sport called Quidditch that was played on brooms. How anyone thought that was a sport or even a form of exercise was something that Vernon felt he would never know.

Vernon saw the day he married Petunia. That day was one of the greatest days of his life. It was at the wedding reception however that he got one of the greatest shocks of his life. The reputation was hosted at a fine hotel. Vernon while to speaking to a friend called James a magician. He had spoken the word with a good deal of contempt. James had over heard. The moment Vernon was in the men's restroom James had taken out this odd stick of wood from his jacket. James preceded to wave the wand and speak what sounded like a poor imitation of Latin. Vernon tried to laugh at this silliness, instead he chirped like a bird. It was James who walked away laughing. This was how Vernon discovered that magic was real. It did not however end there. Vernon looked in the mirror only to discover that his face appeared to be covered in makeup. He had violet purple eye shadow. He had blood red rouge on his cheeks. His lips were as purple as the eye shadow. These makeup like substances disappeared the moment water touched them. The chirping noise did not stop so easily. The second he tried to speak he sounded a bird. He had to search the banquet hall for Lily and James in order to get spell reversed.

Petunia was mortified. For Vernon it was worse. He was shocked to the core of his being. A life long belief was threatened, on the edge of shattering. If magic could do this it could surly do worse. The vague memories he had of his mother reading fairy tales when he was a little boy confirmed this. Were real wizards capable of such things? How could wizards be real in a practical and rational world? To keep his mind together and sane, Vernon told himself that magic was rare and unnatural. It was wrong. The more he had told himself this the more he had become convinced he was right.

Vernon watched the day he and Petunia had looked at houses in Surrey. The house at Number Four Privet Drive was nice. Petunia fell in love with instantly. He had taken some convincing but he had finally given.

When a few months later they received invitation to Lily and James' wedding, both husband and wife were in agreement. There was no way they were going. Petunia had to be polite though and send a vase as a wedding gift.

Vernon watched the night that Dudley was born. Vernon had paced the floor of the hospital waiting room. When he held his son for the first time words could not describe the joy and the pride that he felt. Vernon and his wife discussed several names before deciding on Dudley. That name just seemed to fit. It was perfect. His son was perfect. He wanted to give his son everything he never had. At the same he time he wanted to make sure his son grew up strong and tough like him.

"You did Grandfather," Darren said, "Dad had a whole a lot of bad habits and behavior problems he spent most of his life trying to get over."

"Shut up!" Vernon shouted.

The visions of the past went on. It was a happy life at Privet Drive. It was only a slight annoyance when Lily Potter sent a letter about her son's birth. The day after that letter Vernon hadn't even remember that boy's name. Dudley grew into a fine heavy toddler. Petunia believed that fat babies were healthy babies. Vernon saw nothing wrong with that. He himself had never been skinny. Then on the second of November one year his wife found a baby abandoned on their door step. Her shrieks had sent Vernon running down stairs. There was a letter with the baby explaining only that his parents James and Lily Potter were dead killed by some mass murderer. and that they the Dursleys were expected to raise him. Petunia was mad because the baby could have frozen to death on that doorstep. Vernon was mad because he did not want another child to raise, especially not one that wasn't his. What kind of person leaves a baby in the cold night air like that? He made up his mind then there that wizards weren't just dangerous. They were crazy.

"Some are," Darren said, "but so are some muggles. Wizarding children tend to be more durable than muggle kind so the baby Harry was in no real danger."

Vernon remembered what had gone through his mind. That this baby, this Harry Potter had to be one of those wizards, those freaks. His parents had been so it reasoned that he had to be.

"Not necessarily," Darren said, "Squibs remember? Also Lily was born of muggle parents. Both your wife and son carry the latent genes for magic."

"Impossible!" Vernon snarled. "My lovely Petunia is nothing like those freaks! My Dudley is normal!"

"Ha," Darren siad, "I've seen other realties where the gene was active. In some timelines Grandma Petuiana is a witch. In others Dudley got a letter to Hogwarts the same day that Harry did. Ecpet for the magic wizards are not much different from muggles. They love. They bleed. They die."

"What about that He-who-must-not-named fellow," Vernon asked.

"That is complicted," Darren said, "Some say he was a psychopath. The muggle population is much higher. They have much more of those. The serial killers you hear about on the news. Then there are the more accurate theories. Some rightly compare him to Adolf Hitler. To be honest though Hitler was a lot more sane."

Vernon felt the blood drain from his face. He was sure he was pale. "Hitler?" Vernon's father had as a young man fought in World War II. On the rare occasions that the retired Colonel Howard Dursley got drunk he would talk about the horrors of finding the Nazi concentration camps.

"Yes," Darren said, "Harry Potter is the only one who can stop the dark lord, an evil who is worse than Hitler. The pureblood supremacy is in many ways comparable to the idea of the Aryan master race. The wizarding Pureblood idealists believe they are the master race. But what is pure?"

"That, that boy," Vernon said, his voice shaky, "My nephew, h-he is supposed to stop them? How?"

"By killing the head of the serpent, the dark lord himself," Darren said, "Without Voldemort, the Death Eater army falls apart. One charismatic or bullying leader is what is required to build such an organization. The lack of one collapses the whole group. It dies like a snake without a head."

Darren went silent and the images of the past went on. Vernon saw himself that day that Harry Potter first came to Privet Drive. The older Vernon saw how the younger swore to raise the boy in a practical manner. If the boy was raised sensibly enough perhaps he wouldn't show signs of that magic. Perhaps the boy wouldn't be so much of a freak. Vernon would never admit it aloud but he was scared of magic. Admitting such a fear was a sign of weakness. Vernon prided himself in being a man not a spineless weakling. From that day forward magic was never spoken of at the Dursleys' house.

Harry Potter slept in the nursery with Dudley for the first year. As he got older Harry was placed in the cupboard under the stairs first as a punishment for his rambunctious behavior. Later almost by accident the cupboard became the freak's bedroom. The boy was unruly. Weird things often happened around him. Petunia told the neighborhood that her nephew was a trouble maker. Vernon went along with it.

When the neighbors asked about the boy's parents Vernon was taken aback. He did not know how to respond. He didn't know himself. All Vernon knew was that James was a good for nothing fellow who got himself and his wife killed. Vernon did not want sinister gossip about serials killers acouticed with him or his family. He told the first lie he could think of. That the boy's father and mother had died in a car wreck. He didn't know why he added the next part, that Harry had gotten that scar in the wreck. Vernon didn't know where that lighting bolt scar came from. Neither did Petunia.

Vernon watched how his younger acted around Harry. Hard as he tried the older Vernon could not see the behavior problems he remembered Harry having. The more he looked at his Dudley, the more he saw those problems in his son. He watched as the younger Vernon gave a four year old Harry chores as punishment for the slightest of things. Sometimes the younger Vernon gave out punishments for what seemed to be no reason at all. The chores were given out so often that it became a habit. The boy was soon cooking breakfast every morning. He was gardening. He was vacuuming, and mopping the floors. What clothing Harry wore was often torn that Petunia just started giving him Dudley's hand me downs. On Harry these clothes were so large he was nearly swimming in them.

The scenes suddenly stopped following the younger Vernon. The images began be about Harry.

"Hey!" Vernon shouted, "This isn't my life!"

"No," Darren said, "but it is necessary."

The images were of Harry going off to school for the first time. Harry making friends only to watch as Dudley stopped it. It was Dudley and his friends beating up Harry. It was Harry running from the bully that was Vernon's son. It was a Harry who went from energetic to downtrodden. The beatings didn't happen once but many times. Some of those beatings were very bad.

"My son would never do that!" Vernon yelled, "He is a good boy." As Vernon spoke he knew he was not speaking the truth. Everything was seeing was real. All those times he thought Harry had started a fight with someone he hadn't. He had not even been able to throw a good punch. He had been outnumbered four to one.

"My father called it Harry hunting," Darren said, "He would speak of it with remorse, later in life. This boy this Harry was a child who was given to you to raise. You failed him. You failed to even set a good example for your son."

The images continued to speed by focusing on Harry. They showed him being blame for breaking windows and vases when it Dudley who did it. As punishment Harry was sometimes locked up in his cupboard. Any time Dudley was about be punished all he had to do was fake tears to get out of it. Harry had no such option. Harry was punished regardless. The times that Harry cried were never fake. That boy was surprisingly never spiteful. Harry was seldom hateful. The few time he was, were something Vernon could understand. If it had been Vernon in that sitioin he would been a lot worse. Most amazingly Harry was not bitter.

"If his nature had been any different," Darren said, "then you would have raised the next dark lord. His first evil deed would have been to kill you and your family. But Harry was not wicked. He was good. Harry was a boy who just wanted love. Did you love him? No. Unbeknownst to him he was destined to grow up to fight the dark lord Voldemort. Did you train the boy to be anything besides a household slave? Once again the answer is no."

"I did not know!" Vernon protested.

"No you did not," Darren said, "But he was family. He was flesh and blood to your wife and son. He was your responsibly. You failed him. In many ways you failed your son as well."

"I raised my son good!" Vernon shouted, "I gave him the sort of childhood I would have wanted!"

"Did you now?" Darren asked.

Images appeared of Dudley. It was all of Dudley's childhood. He stole things. He broke most of his toys, his expensive toys. He beat ups kids much smaller than him. He blamed Harry for more things than Vernon could count. It was Dudley's fault that any new clothing Harry got was torn. Dudley was rough. He was mean. He was spoiled to the point of ruin. With all the things Vernon witnessed he was amazed that Harry's sprit was not broken. Vernon couldn't believe it but he was almost cheering watching the scenes where Harry stood up to Dudley. This didn't do Harry much good though. The small boy didn't know how to fight back against someone bigger than him. He still got beat up by Dudley. Many were the times when Dudley should have punished yet he never was.

"Now to show you why my father became the man I knew," Darren said.

A scene appeared showing the streets of the town where the Durlesys lived. It was night. It was a scene of a teenage Harry and a teenage Dudley. In an alleyway, Dudley taunted Harry. Harry pulled his wand out and pointed at Dudley's heart. Dudley still made fun of him. Then without warning, Dudley looked terrified. Harry stood more alert. They looked up. These huge black robed things appeared. These monsters were flying. Dudley put his hands in front his eyes. He acted as if he couldn't see. He ran straight for the robed monsters. Harry ran after him yelling. One of the monsters cornered Dudley. It appeared ready to kill him. Then Harry raised his wand. A white light burst from the wand turning into a white stag. The stag attacked the monster. Dudley collapsed to the ground in a heap moaning. The scene faded out. Everything went black.

"I remember that," Vernon said, "I thought the boy attacked him. He saved him. Harry saved my son's life."

Darren appeared a few feet in front of Vernon. Darren was shaking his head. "No. He did something more important than that. He saved my father's soul. That monster as you put it was a Demmonter. Demmnetors have the power make you face your worst memories. My father had no memories he thought of as bad. Instead, he saw what his actions truly were. He saw himself for the bully he was. This started a lifetime of struggling to change. The man I knew him as was honorable but far from perfect."

Darren disappeared again. New images appeared. These were different, not of one person but of people and places. Vernon saw castles and mansions. Vernon saw a busy streets filled with people wearing bright colored robes. He saw a bank with little ugly creatures working there. He saw the inside of what looked like a government building. He saw across all these places families, indivisibles, peoples going about their daily lives and business. All of whom were wearing robes. The mood, the tone of the scenes shifted showing shops closing, buildings being boarded up, and people looking wary. He saw a man with no nose and scarlet color eyes that were silts like the eyes of snake. Vernon liked to think he was a good judge of character. He wasn't so sure of that anymore but he still thought he knew when someone had authority. This man, this freak somehow radiated such power. He was surrounded by many people. The ones standing closet looked aristocratic and proud.

"That is Lord Voledomort," Darren said as the scene faded out into darkness. Darren again appeared in front of Vernon. "The ones that were next to him were his inner circle."

"What do those freaks have to me now?" Vernon asked, "I'm dead aren't I?"

"Yes," Darren said, "but you don't have to stay that way. I am here to offer you a chance to change things to create a new timeline. All you have to do is relive the last two decades of your life. This time you will treat Harry different. Will you do it?"

Vernon thought about this. He had a lot of personal regrets. He now saw clearly some things he never had before. It wasn't Harry's life he wanted to change so much. It was Dudley's. He wanted not to spoil the boy so much. He wanted his son to grow with morals. He wanted Dudley to be honest and hardworking. Finally, several minutes of thinking Vernon said, "Yes."

Darren disappeared from sight. His voice faded slowly away as he spoke. "When you go back, you will not fully remember this. Only your subconscios mind will…"

The last thing Vernon Dursley thought of before waking up in the past was that this time things would different.


	2. Chapter 2

In a small flat in London in the summer of 1978, a thirty two year old Vernon Durlsey awoke feeling as if he was forgetting an important dream. It was morning. He dressed. He stopped and stared at his reflection in a mirror. He had the oddest feeling that his hair should have specks of grey. Vernon shook his head. He wasn't that old. He was only thirty two. He left the flat. He ate a hardy breakfast at a local dinner then drove to work.

All through out the day he kept get these weird feelings like he had been here before. It was as if he lived the day before. By mid-afternoon, Vernon had mostly shaken off such feelings.

After work he drove over to his fiancé Petunia's place for a planed double date. In front of the flat, there were two people. A man with messy black hair was standing next to a young woman with red hair and green eyes.

"I'm James Potter," the man said. He didn't look any older than eighteen. He had hazel eyes framed by round glasses. Vernon shook his hand feeling as if they had met before.

The woman Vernon knew only by sight. She was Lily Evans his fiancée's sister. The one who was part of some crazy witch cult. Vernon didn't know why but he decided to keep an open mind about her. A strange thought appeared in his mind that maybe magic was real. Lily and her boyfriend might be crazy but maybe it was best to humor them.

"Petunia love," Vernon said, as Petunia came out the front door of her flat. "You are an absolute vision of beauty."

Vernon led them to his car. He bragged about it. James did not look impressed.

"I have a nimbus 1001," James said, "it's old but it's fast. It was the top of the line when it was new. It's still an outstanding broomstick. One that's been made better by a little bit of tinkering on my part."

Vernon wanted to yell. Instead not knowing why, he humored James. "I'm sure it's nice. You'll have to show me sometime."

The whole night went like that. James spoke the impossible. He claimed to have a fortune in gold. He was Vernon barely kept his temper but he managed. At of the end of date he drove them back to Petunia's. He almost fainted when James and Lily disappeared into thin air.

"Disgraceful," Petunia said.

"M-Magic is real!" Vernon said.

"I told you she was a witch," Petunia said, "Most of the year she doesn't even wear proper clothes. Lily wears robes. She talks about this wizarding culture that she's a part like the rest of the world isn't good enough. But enough but about her. Let's talk of something else."

They did speak of other things but Vernon's mind was on the wizards. As they went in her flat and as they drunk coffee at Petunia little kitchen table, his mind was whirling. He felt he should have been repulsed. Vernon knew he should have been in deeper shock. It was like being told the world was round when you believed it flat. Instead of shock, he was fascinated and more than a little scared.

Vernon didn't see James and Lily again for three months. It was two days before his wedding to Petunia. He didn't know why he thought Petunia would refuse to have Lily as a bridesmaid. She didn't. Lily was right there at wedding rehearsal as one of Petunia's three bridesmaids. James Potter should not have been at the rehearsal. The young man had invited himself. Vernon was quick to ask James several questions.

Vernon and James were soon standing outside the hotel in the parking lot. Vernon had wanted to smoke. Petunia refused to let him do that anywhere indoors. She hated the stench. The hotel manger had been of the same opinion and politely asked Vernon to step outside. James had gotten a beer bottle, though from where Vernon did not know. They stood out there talking for several minutes.

"We have a ministry of magic," James said.

Vernon nodded, impressed that magic was all about rules and regulations just like everything else. When he suggested this, James made an awful face.

"You remind a bit of Orion and Walburga Black," James said, "That and an over curious muggleborn." James snorted. "Now there's a combination."

"The Blacks, who are they?" Vernon asked, "and what's a muggle or a muggleborn. You keep using those terms."

"Oh, the Blacks? They're my mate Sirius's parents," James said, "They believe holding up wizarding traditions. They think you should never marry outside your social circle. That a pureblood wizard should never marry a muggleborn. They are dreadful." James went on about it for a bit. He was rambling. He sounded increasingly drunk. The culture he was describing sounded positively medieval.

Vernon continued asking questions. Asking, "What's a squib?" got him an answer that horrified him. "What is a house elf?" resulted in an answer that was better but not by much. A whole string of questions the result of a long built up curiosity just poured out of Vernon. "Are Dragons real? Do you really fly on brooms? What's a wand for? Do you use wands to cast every spell? Can you use magic to make a instant fortune? How is the magical government different from the main one? Are there wizards in parliament?"

James raised up his hands. "Stop!" he yelled, "I take it back. You're worse than a first year muggleborn." James disappeared with a distinctive cracking sound filling the air. A minute later he reappeared with a book in one hand. The other hand was missing. From the left shoulder down there was no arm. Strangely he wasn't bleeding.

Vernon shrieked. "Your arm!"

James looked at his shoulder. "Oh damn. I splinched myself." James thrust the book he was holding into Vernon's hands. It was a thin leather bound volume. Vernon clenched the book tightly. He looked on at James in a complete state of fright.

James pulled a small mirror out one of his pockets. He spoke to mirror saying, "Sirius."

A voice came from the mirror, "James are you alright?"

"Not exactly," James said. He told the person who seemed to in the mirror his location. James then passed out.

Before Vernon could act, three men appeared in the same manner as James had. They were all about seventeen or eighteen. They were all wearing dress like garments. One had long black hair and grey eyes. Something about this young man seemed wild. At the same time as contradictory as it sounded he was somehow aristocratic. Vernon felt the moment he looked at this man that he had seen somewhere before. That he had seen his face many times. The word murderer appeared in Vernon's mind. Vernon told himself he was being ridiculous. He pushed the word out of his mind.

"James!" the man yelled. His voice was the one from the mirror. He rushed to James' side.

The other two men were utterly opposite in appearance. One had shoulder length brown hair. He was so thin he was nearly bony. His odd garments looked sort of shabby with patches in multiple places.

The other was short and fat. His weird clothes were plain but of good condition. His hair was short, blond, and oily. His face was marked by an extreme case of acne.

"You there, are you alright?" the man with the shabby clothes said.

Vernon's fear and shock was so great that for the first time in many years he was speechless. He was confused. He nodded his head then shook it.

"D-do you t-think he's confounded?" the short one stuttered.

"I don't know," the shabby man said. He looked at Vernon in a bewildered sort of manner. He put a hand on Vernon's shoulder. "If you can understand me I'm about to perform a side along-apparition to St. Mungo's."

Vernon felt as if he was being squeezed all over. Then he was standing someplace else. Vernon was in a waiting room of some sort. There were men and women moving in white dress like garments. Robes, they were robes. Petunia had talked about robes with a great deal of distain but Vernon had never them before tonight. The shabby young man was right beside Vernon. A second later the wild aristocratic one appeared carrying James. Then the short man arrived.

A man wearing white rushed to examine James. This man waved a wand and a floating stretcher came.

The shabby man's hand was still on Vernon. Vernon did not like it. "Hand off!" he shouted, "You kidnapped me! Where am I?"

"St. Mungo's Hospital," the man in white said, "I would ask you to be quiet. There are sick people here."

"There is no such place!" Vernon yelled. "Unless…Is this a wizard's hospital?"

"What other kind of hospital would a wizard go to?" the shabby man asked.

"I am not a wizard!" Vernon shouted.

"You brought a muggle here?" the man in white asked the shabby man. "You apperated with him! Are you mad?"

The shabby man went all defensive. "I didn't know he was a muggle! Why would James being hanging out with one? I didn't think he even knew any."

"Um," the aristocratic one said, "He is probably one of Lily's relatives. She is a muggleborn."

"Muggle!" Vernon was insulted. They spoke the term like he some kind of freak. "I am not the freak here! If any one is a freak it's you folk!" The word freak rolled off his tongue like he had said it hundreds of times but he knew he hadn't. belatedly Vernon realized that speaking that word was a mistake. Every single person in this room glared at him. If they were speaking true then this was a whole building filled with wizards and witches. He was the odd man out. From their perspective he probably was the freak. If they had a government system, and a hospital they probably had an entire society. Vernon was the freak here.

People, young and old came towards Vernon with wands raised threateningly. The man in white who was tending to James yelled at them, "Move along! There is nothing here to see. You will do nothing, unless you want to wind up in Azkaban!"

"Azkaban?" Vernon inquired.

The shabby man looked at him with pity. "The British wizarding prison."

These words told Vernon two things. The first, there were laws enforced by some sort of wizard's law enforcement. The second was that there were multiple nations of wizards. It was a quick leap from there to thinking that magic might well be like science. Reassured by the thought that magic could make sense he began to calm down.

The man in white introduce himself as Healer Martin. He was apparently the wizard's equivalent of a doctor. Why didn't he just say doctor in the first place Vernon didn't know. Healer Martin led Vernon and the young men to a small room with an old fashioned hospital bed. James was placed on that bed. The shabby man was named Remus Lupin. The wild, aristocratic one was Siruis Black. The short one was Peter Pettigrew.

"You were the last one to see him before he splinched himself?" Healer Martin asked, "Do you know where he went?"

"Just that he gave me this book," Vernon said gruffly. Vernon looked at the book in his hand for the first time since he took from James. The book had the title, _A Muggleborn's Guide to the Wizarding World_.

Sirius snatched the book from Vernon's hands. Sirius then opened it. On the first page there was writing. "This is from Redthorn Hall, the Potter Mansion in Wales," Sirius said, "Dorea Potter did collect a lot of useless books." Sirius thrust the book back into Vernon's hands.

"Mansion?" Vernon asked, "You mean he was telling the truth about being wealthy?"

Sirius glared at him. "Yes. James is the last heir of the Potter estates which include many mansions. His family was once as big as the Prewetts though much wealthier. Now that I know where he went I can go there." A cracking noise like a whip filled the air as Sirius disappeared. Less than a minute later he reappeared with an severed arm in his hands.

Vernon backed away until his back touched a wall. Sirius laughed a harsh mocking laugh at Vernon, as he handed the arm to the healer. Healer Martin took the arm very carefully. The healer cut off the jacket and shirt sleeve off the arm. He laid the arm gently down on a table. Healer Martin cut the material of the jacket and shirt away from James' shoulder.

Vernon watched in awe as Healer Martin reattached James' left arm to James's shoulder. Magical healing was more impressive than medical science. It was better.

James woke up fifteen minutes later groaning. Vernon came to the conclusion that James was an idiot and foolish but no more so than most young men. Vernon spent time talking to James' friends. He didn't like Sirius Black, not at all. Remus was kind but clueless about muggles. Peter was someone that had he been older Vernon could easily have been good friends with. Ten minutes later, Vernon was guided by Sirius and Remus out of St. Mungo's. He soon found that they were standing on a busy street in London. Vernon knew this street.

"I must have past by this place many times," Vernon said, "How could I not see this before?"

"It's under a spell to make it unnoticed by muggles," Remus said.

"Why is there all this foolish secrecy?" Vernon asked.

"Young inexperienced wizards and witches were burned at the stake in the middle ages," Remus said, "Muggles have always had greater numbers."

"Most members of the Black family would present a different theory," Sirius said. His voice became sarcastic. "My dear old mum would say that it's because we're better than them. That we don't hide. We merely keep riff raff away."

Sirius's face took on a mischievous look. "Now, we have two choices on how to get you home. We could send you back by bus. I have plenty of money to take care of the bus fare if you want."

"Since when?" Remus asked.

Siruus gave Remus a sharp look. "That's what I was trying to tell you earlier before James called. My Uncle Alphard died just last week. He left his entire fortune to me."

Sirius's eyes took on the look of mischief again. "The other option is something Healer Martin would never approve of. Apparition."

"That's teleportation isn't it," Vernon said. "Is it safe?

Sirius nodded. "Very."

Vernon looked to Remus for confirmation. He didn't trust this Sirius Black fellow, not at all. Remus shrugged. "It's safe," Remus said, "unless the one doing it is drunk or otherwise unfocused."

"Then you are the one taking me back," Vernon said to Remus. Vernon did not fancy a four hour bus ride out to Cokeworth and the hotel. It was these young magical idiots that had brought him here. They could sure as hell take him back.

Vernon grabbed a hold of Remus's arm. He felt for the second time that squeezing sensation. Then he was no longer in on the street in London. He was back at the hotel parking lot.

"There you go," Remus said, "You're safe and sound, not a limb missing." Remus looked relieved

This worried Vernon. He checked to see that he did have all his limbs. When his eyes caught sight of his watch he realized that he had been gone for the better of an hour. Vernon never ran if he did not have to. This moment was no exception. He did however walk rather fast. Vernon heard the cracking sound of Remus teleporting away. He did not bother to look. Vernon placed the wizard book in his car. He then went ot

When Vernon reached the hotel lobby he found Petunia sitting in a chair waiting for him. She did not look happy. "Where have you been?" she asked, "You were not in the parking lot as you said you would be. You took off without so much as a word!"

"I was at St. Mungos," Vernon said. He tried to explain about the wizards.

"Not here!" Petunia whispered loudly. She guided him toward the ballroom they were renting for the wedding. There was no in there as they talked. Vernon spoke of the fact that St. Mungo's was

"Those freaks have a hospital as well a prison!" Petunia said.

"You knew about their prison?" Vernon asked, "Do you know more this other society, this wizarding world?"

"The wizard's prison is Azkaban," Petunia said, "I know about it only because of that dreadful boy."

"James?" Vernon asked. James was immature and annoying but Vernon would not call him dreadful.

Petunia shook her head. "No, Severus Snape. Lily was best friends with him until fifth or sixth year. I don't know what happened. I don't keep up with Lily's personal life much. I'm just glad she's not with that boy anymore. There was something about that Snape boy bothered me. It only got worse as he got older." Petunia visibly shuddered. Vernon was not a man prone to unnecessary physical affection. For the woman he loved he was willing to make an exception when he could see that she was so clearly in need of comfort. He wrapped his arms around her.

The embrace lasted for the better part of a minute before Petunia pulled away. Petuina put a hand on a hip. "I don't know much about the wizarding world and I don't care to. It's strange. It's exclusive like a high society club that not just anyone can be a part of. I saw their shops. I saw a place called Diagan Alley once. Once was enough. It was weird. It was not normal. I love Lily. I have to. She is my sister but we have grown apart. I'm glad I'm not part of the world she's mixed up in. I have no desire for it."

Vernon saw in the way Petunia spoke that she was extremely jealous. He knew very little about the wizarding world but he wanted to know more. He felt like he needed to know more. He felt as though his fiacnec was more important. If was a choice between learning about wizards or having Petunia in his life, there was no question. Petunia was everything to him.

Occasionally from time to time Vernon would get weird notions or a powerful feeling of familiarity. He had been this way for the past few months. Vernon had learned to dismiss it. One of those notions was popping up in his mind. The thought was that somehow there was a connection between his need to understand the wizard and Petunia. This was ridiculous. Vernon did his best to dismiss the notion. He nearly had when Lily walked into the room. The absurd idea flared up into more notions. Somehow Lily was important. The need to know about magic connected to her in someway. And to, to… James? Vernon could almost see the answers in his mind. It slipped from his grasp.

Vernon made his choice then and there, that Petunia was more important than anything. If the wizarding world bothered her, he would not talk to her about it. He would not sneak behind her back to learn about it either. He lived thirty-two years without knowing about the wizarding world. No matter how great his desire to know about it was, the fact was that he did not need to know.

Two days passed. The wedding went perfectly according to plan. The wedding reception was the last that Vernon saw James or Lily for a long time. During most of the first year of their marriage, Petunia and Vernon lived in a flat in London. Though they looked for a house they did not find the right one. Vernon encouraged Petunia as much as he dared to keep up a relationship with Lily. It was of his weird notions that led him to this. Vernon did not speak to anyone of these notions, not even Petunia. Following those notions, the less weird ones seemed to lead to good things. It was one those notions one of those feelings that led to success at work. He got a promotion several months sooner than he expected. Vernon was beginning to think of the notions as instincts. Sometimes it was to be ignored but other times it led to great things.

In the spring of 1979 Vernon and Petunia were invited to Lily and James' wedding. They accepted. It was an outdoor wedding. They were surrounded by wizards. Vernon was fascinated. Petunia was disgusted. There were so many people dressed in exotic and unusual clothing. The robes were too much like dresses for Vernon's taste but it was a different culture. The whole idea that this culture had been hidden right under the noses of the normal British folk was amazing. If some of the things these people said were true then there were Wizading nations inside the borders of almost every major nation on the planet. One of the wizarding folk here was an old nearly senile woman who kept trying to talk about someone called, 'You-Know-Who.' Other guests kept trying to shut her up.

Vernon's notions, his instincts flared up to the extreme when he heard the old woman. He absolutely had to know what it was she was speaking of. There was something important about this. What, he didn't know. As the bride Lily Evans walked down the aisle, Vernon was not at first looking at her. His thoughts were too much on his instincts. Intuition sounded like a better word for it but it made him think too much of the term _Women's intuition_. Petunia had to poke at him to get him to pay attention to the wedding.

The bride and groom said their vows. Lily Evans became Lily Potter. Everyone moved over to a pavilion and the wedding reception commenced. The tables were round tables sitting six or seven peoples Petunia and Vernon sat at the same table as Remus. As the sun began to set, Vernon asked, "Who is this You Know Who, that old woman was talking about?"

Remus went sort of pale. Almost everyone at the table did. "Not here," Remus said, "Not on this day. That's a dark topic. It's not something to talk on a day like today."

"When else am going to find out about it?" Vernon asked. He didn't really want to know about this You Know Who but he felt needed to. If everyone here was looking so grave or spooked about it then the need seemed urgent. These people were wizards. They had powers. What could scare them?

"You really don't know anything about him?" Remus said. He shook his head. "No, you're a muggle. Most muggles don't know. You wouldn't happen to be connected to the floo system, would you?"

Vernon raised his brows. "The what?" Vernon asked as Petunia looked at him as if she wanted him to just shut up.

"The floo network," Remus said, "Some muggles with wizarding family do have a link to it. It's a system of magically connected fireplaces. We use something called floo powder. You have but to throw it in the fireplace and then speak the name of the place you're going and you will arrive stepping out of the other fireplace."

Petunia looked horrified. "How barbaric. All that soot!"

"No," Vernon said, "We don't have that."

"We're are not going to!" Petunia shouted, "I won't have anymore to do with magic. Normal people shouldn't have anything to do with magic!"

Sirius Black rose up from another table. He came stood behind Petunia. He bent down near her ear. "Lady," he said in an ominous tone that had Vernon worried, "From my perspective you're the one who is not normal."

"Step away from my wife!" Vernon roared.

"Or what?" Sirius said. His face came too close to Vernon. There was a smell of whiskey on the young man's breath. "You'll do what exactly?" Sirius pulled out a stick, his wand. He twirled it around in his fingers like a cheerleader with a baton. "You and your loud mouthed wife should just be glad I'm not like You-know-Who's followers. I may be from a dark family but I'm not like them. If you did try to fight me just what could you do? I'm the one with weapon here." Sirius pointed his wand at Vernon.

Vernon could feel the blood rushing to his face. He was getting both scared and livid.

"Just be calm, Mr. Dursley," Remus said, "You're in no danger, I think."

"You're drunk, boy," Vernon said to Sirius, "Go sleep it off." Vernon glared at the young man. The young man glared back.

A tall broad shouldered black man was sitting at the table a few seats over from Vernon. This man stood up and walked quick over to Sirius Black. This man pulled out his wand and put it at Sirius's back. "Drop it Black!" the man said.

Sirius's wand moved too close to Vernon's face. Vernon reacted without thinking. He reached out his hand and snatched the wand right out of Sirius's hand. There was a hushed silence. Everyone in the pavilion went quiet. Even the music stopped.

Sirius came at Vernon threateningly. Vernon made a fist. His fist hit Sirius's jaw sending him reeling backwards. Sirius landed on his back on the floor. His head only narrowly missed a table. He groaned but was otherwise still.

Vernon stood up. He looked down at Sirius Black. "You had it coming boy. Getting drunk and coming at me was a mistake." Vernon held the wand in his hands. "I don't why I shouldn't snap it. However you were supposed to be using it, you obviously were not doing it right." Vernon didn't know why but as he looked at Sirius, he thought the word, murderer. He had been doing that earlier. He now agreed with that instinct. This young idiot could be very dangerous in the right situation.

"I wouldn't do that," the tall black man said, "For a wizard a wand is important. The breaking of one could be perceived as gravest of insults."

"Kingsley is right about that Mr. Dursley," Remus said, "Sirius is acting like a worse idiot than usual. He'll probably admit that later. Even so he wouldn't be so quick to forgive you. He can hold a grudge for a long time."

Petunia hissed. "Vernon put th- that thing, put that thing down! Vernon sit down! Behave! You're making a spectacle out of yourself."

Vernon calmed down a bit. He let out a low nervous chuckle. "I've already done that love," he said. Vernon dropped the wand on top of the now unconscious Sirius Black.

People around the pavilion began to whisper. Vernon's ears picked up some of it. "Ancient dark family...shame that…" someone said. Another said, "… a muggle took him down." Someone else voice was saying, "Unbelievable!"

Remus rushed to Sirius's side. He knelt to the ground. Peter Pettigrew came. The two of them tried to help their friend up. Neither was strong enough. A giant of a man whose head nearly the roof of the pavilion came and picked Sirius up as if he weighed nothing. The giant like man had thick black hair. His hands were enormous. Vernon felt strangely scared of this man. Other than his sheer size there was nothing frightening about this man. He looked like a friendly giant. An image of a pig's tail appeared in Vernon's mind. Vernon couldn't figure that out.

"I'll be taking him out of here," the giant said, "He may 'ave been the best man. Now he's a drunken idiot. We don't want him ruining things." The giant draped Sirius over his shoulder. The bride and groom, James and Lily Potter looked at him thankfully.

"Wh-where you ar-are taking him Hagrid?" Peter asked stuttering.

"Home, "the giant said. Vernon assumed the giant's name was Hagrid. The name seemed right. Hagrid went on speaking. "Taking him home so he can sleep it off. He do be needing to do that. His motorcycle is around someplace. I know I saw it. Been wanting to try it." Hagrid walked out of the pavilion speaking what he most likely meant to be a mutter. "Attacking a muggle, what was he thinking? Not right in the head that."

Petunia was scandalized and embarrassed. She was not the kind to take embarrassment well. When the reception was over and later when they were back in London, Petunia wanted nothing more to do with wizards or their world. Over the next several weeks she stopped even the limited communication that she had with her sister. Petunia stopped writing to Lily. Petunia even stopped using the word magic.

Vernon on the other hand was fascinated by the wizarding world. He could not stop thinking about it. He still that book James had given last year. He read the book for first time, then the second. He read it cover to cover. It was clearly meant for children but it did give him a basic understanding of some things. He knew that the name of the Wizarding bank was Gringotts. That the bank was run by goblins. He learned that most of the magical creatures from myth and legend were real.

There was also hints of prejudice in the book, thinly veiled and watered down. It was obvious if one read between the lines that not all was perfect in the wizarding world. There was hatred and fear of change. There was distrust of the non-magicals whom the wizards called muggles. The very word muggle was something Vernon found insulting. It was somehow degrading. It sounded like a bad joke to him. It did not sound like a respectable word to be used in common everyday speech.

It did not take a great leap of logic to think that were probably hate crimes. The more Vernon thought about this the more he was sure he was right. This only raised more questions. Every time he saw something weird being reported on the news, he began to wonder if a wizard did it. The amount of bizarre deaths was increasing. For a few months there were reports on the news almost nightly of strange killings and men found who were raving mad.

Vernon could not seek the answers to his questions. He did his best to push aside his curiosity. Life went on. In the fall Petunia became pregnant with their first child. Vernon was ecstatic. Somehow without knowing why, he was certain that the child was a boy. The Dursleys immediately began searching for a house. A small flat in London was no place to raise a family. Vernon and Petunia both agreed that the house needed to be at least four bedrooms maybe five. They wanted two or more kids someday. They need a guest bedroom for the times when Vernon's sister Marge came over.

The perfect house was found in Surrey. It was Number Four Privet Drive in Little Whinging. The moment Vernon stepped in the house he felt a sense of déjà vu. It was as if he had lived in the house for years. He knew exactly where everything was. It was downright eerie. His wife didn't seem to notice. Petunia was in love with the house. She wanted it.

"It's wonderful!" Petunia said, standing in the downstairs hallway.

"I don't know Tuney," Vernon said. He stood by the cupboard under the stairs. He had the strangest notion that a cot should be in there. He opened the door. Nothing was there. He closed his eyes. For a moment he saw a flash of images. The visions were too fast running through his mind. The images faded. All that was left was a memory of green eyes like those of Petunia's mother and sister. Vernon knew better than to speak of this to Petunia. It sounded too much like the m word. Grudgingly, Vernon gave in to Petunia's demands. He bought the house.

They moved in quickly. At Vernon's insistence over two months after she found out, Petunia wrote her first letter to Lily in months. It turned out that Lily was pregnant too. The correspondence between the sisters continued. Then in the middle of winter the news came by telephone call that Petunia's parents had died in a car accident. It was a cold snowing afternoon the day Evans' were buried in the ground. The two sisters cried together and most of their problems were resolved between them. A image appeared in Vernon's mind of them arguing instead. He squished this idea as soon as it appeared. The notions in his mind were becoming stronger and more like memories. He didn't think it was magic. Vernon was sure it wasn't. He didn't know what it else it could be. He didn't trust anyone about this. He dared not tell for anyone for fear of being thought insane.

The Potters were never seen at the Dursleys' house, but the letters continued. Petunia still didn't talk about magic or the wizarding world. If Vernon so much as said one word about it, it started an argument. Vernon tried his best to pretend that the world was a normal non-magical place.

On June 23, 1980, Vernon's son was born. He stood there in the hospital looking at the newborn in his wife's arms. He knew instantly that the baby's name should be Dudley.

Over a month later the Dursleys were at home in their kitchen. Petunia was sitting at the table with little Dudley and a baby bottle. A owl banged against the back door. Petunia hissed when she saw it. "I told Lily to send the mail the normal way," she said.

Vernon looked at the owl amused. He opened the door. The owl flew in and landed on a kitchen counter. It had a letter tied one its feet. The handwriting was not Lily's. "That annoying James," Vernon said, "He's the one who sent it, not Lily. If you're going to get mad at anyone it's him."

"What if some saw it?" Petunia asked.

"Who would believe it?" Vernon asked back.

Vernon handed the envelope to Petunia. It was a letter announcing that a baby boy had been born to the Potters on the 31st of July. Even before Petunia could finish reading the letter aloud, Vernon knew that the boy's first name was Harry. This spooked Vernon. He knew then that the notions were more than instincts. There was something else, but what? Vernon had gotten in the habit of telling no one about this strangeness. This habit remained.

Time moved on. In the spring of the next year 1981, Petunia mentioned once that Lily had stopped writing to her. This only mildly worrisome to Petunia. Vernon was more worried but he wasn't sure why.

It was the first of November of that year that things changed again. It was early morning at Number 4 Privet Drive. Vernon was upstairs when he heard his wife scream. He moved down the stairs as fast he could. Petunia was standing in the doorway with a small baby in her arms. She was looking bewildered. The baby was wrapped up in a blanket. There was a envelope pinned to the blanket. Vernon moved closer. He could see that the baby was awake. It was looking inquisitively around. The baby's eyes were green.

At that moment images flooded Vernon's mind. He saw a teenage boy who looked a lot like Petunia, with the same blond hair and similar facial features. He remembered talking to this boy. All at once he remembered watching his life as if he was an outsider. Yet he could not remember living most of the events he had witnessed.

"Vernon, sweetie" Petunia said, "are you alright? Vernon answer me!"

Vernon's attention snapped back into reality. He stared at the baby. This was Harry James Potter. This child was important. Without him, Vernon's family and all others without magic were in trouble. "We're keeping him," Vernon said.

"We don't even know that it is a him!" Petunia yelled, "Someone just left this baby here!"

"Read the note," Vernon said.

Petunia did so. Her face went as pale as a sheet. "Lily-s-she's dead," Petunia stuttered in shock. "This is my nephew. This is Harry Potter!"

"No," Vernon said, "We're going to raise him. We're going to be parents to him. This is Harry James Dursley." In his mind, Vernon made a personal vow. He didn't understand how he was able to remember that other life. That other Vernon did not seem like him. Unlike the other Vernon, he did not fear magic. He had a temper but he had never gotten that mad in his entire life. He did not hate magic. He could see now though that he was not and could be involved with that world. Harry had to be kept apart from the wizarding world until he was older. The fate of the non-magical world depended upon Harry. Vernon was going to raise the boy. He would make certain that the boy was ready to lead. That he was sympathetic towards non-magicals. That he was ready to save the world when the time came.

Vernon closed the front door. He guided Petunia toward the kitchen. Already he was thinking up plans for the boy was older. Harry would need to learn survival skills. He would need to know about politics. He would need to know military strategy. The last one at least, could be trained through chess and other board games. There was so much the boy would need to know, and all before he turned eleven. Vernon stared at the baby in his wife's arms and planned for the future.


End file.
